


(I'll) remind you

by ashinan



Series: Uliro Week [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Memories, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Uliro Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 13:03:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11036739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinan/pseuds/ashinan
Summary: Shiro’s memories remain a barrier between them, one that Ulaz refuses to cross until all is laid bare. He knows the likelihood of forgiveness isn’t high.





	(I'll) remind you

**Author's Note:**

> Day two blueberries! We’re just trucking along. I’m ridiculously excited by all of the delightful Uliro fics and art that is coming out for the week. You’re all amazing. If you're interested in music for this fic, check out [The Lightning Strike](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0BDS0-ZwOw) by Snow Patrol which is one of my main songs for this pairing! Enjoy!!

The humans have frequent meal schedules, coming together to share food and conversation thrice in an Altean cycle. Ulaz joins them occasionally, though his species only requires sustenance every six cycles. The conversation is - nice. Vastly different from the Blades, most certainly, though Ulaz finds the Paladins brand of unique talking points refreshing. The Paladins talk loudly and frequently, laughter and shouting and a general excitment creating a cacophony of noise that settles the tension between Ulaz’s shoulders. The Princess and her aide often join, though they don’t partake in food quite as often as the Paladins. Ulaz seats himself beside where Shiro tends to sit, curious over the meal that Hunk has prepared for them all. He is not quite hungry, but the smell is enough to pique his interest.

As the food is split amongst those present, Ulaz glances around. Shiro tends to be the first to arrive. He rarely misses meals except when his tactical mind gets the better of him, but usually one of the other Paladins drags him into the mess hall if that is the case. Pidge and Hunk talk installation tactics while Lance feeds the mice from his own plate. Keith has Allura occupied with the gladiator training. Ulaz stands, leaving the table before anyone can ensnare him in conversation.

There aren’t many places Shiro can disappear to. Ulaz checks the usual haunts: the training deck, the bridge, the lounge. The Black Lion’s hangar is empty of Shiro as well, her barrier down and eyes barely lit as she turns her head when Ulaz enters. He leaves quickly, uneasy around the behemoth beasts when their Paladins are not present. He searches less likely places next: the archives, the observation decks, and finally back to the Paladin quarters. Shiro often complains of the unease he experiences in the small rooms, how they tweak at a darker memory he dares not explore. Ulaz traces his fingers over the doors until he finds Shiro’s, knocking gently.

“Just a moment!” Shiro calls.

Masking his surprise, Ulaz replies, “It is no rush.”

There is a momentary pause before Shiro laughs, voice muffled through the door. “Come on in.”

Intrigued, Ulaz waves his hand over the panel beside the door and steps through. Shiro sits in the middle of his room, blankets and pillows haphazardly spread about him, the mattress half pulled off and situated as more of a backrest then anything resembling a bed. Ulaz pauses at the threshold. What is Shiro’s has been strewn about in careful disarray: his clothing has been set up near the corner, where his white armour now lies. A series of carefully stacked starmaps and holopads balance precariously on one of the nightstands, spilling down toward vastly different sized boxes. The dresser has been piled high with folded blankets and sheets. There are more pillows holding court in another corner, shoved up to create a makeshift chair. It’s not at all what Ulaz was expecting and yet.

Shiro glances up, pushing hair out of his eyes. He’s still wearing the undersuit of the Paladin armour, the back unzipped and shoved down to his waist. The small smattering of scarring upon his back prickles against Ulaz’s memories, his fingers twitching. Shiro pushes up from where he’d been gathering together blankets and pillows, dropping them back into place. Had he been cleaning? Had that been the reason he called for a moment?

“Hey, sorry, I would’ve let you in right away if I’d known.” Shiro nudges the blankets over with his toe before he approaches Ulaz, head cocked curiously. “What can I do for you?”

“You were not at dinner,” Ulaz says, finally stepping through the threshold. The door shushes quietly closed behind him. Shiro crosses his arms, a defensive gesture Ulaz has become familiar with. The scars upon his arms stand in stark relief, many Ulaz had treated himself, others he hadn’t the chance to heal. Another memory stirs. He jerks his gaze away and to Shiro’s face instead, to the tightening around his eyes and the unhappy bow of his mouth.

“Ah. I wasn’t really feeling it.”

Curious, Ulaz asks, “Does ‘feeling it’ tend to dictate your digestion cycles?”

Shiro laughs, surprised, and the tension relaxes from his shoulders. He drops his hands down to his sides, shaking his head. A dimple appears in his cheek. “No, not at all.”  

They are in close quarters, standing amongst Shiro’s possessions, and Ulaz quashes a sudden temptation to step forward and touch. He is not here for such pleasantries. “Your companions have started their third meal. You have not eaten since the first. That is not something your species should do on a frequent basis, correct?”

“Are you monitoring my meals now?” Shiro asks, amused. He doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, turning instead to his bedding. He pokes around it, moving blankets and pillows until they are situated in what approximates a comfortable seating arrangement. “I’ll grab something later tonight.”

Uncertain if that counts as a dismissal, Ulaz dallies. He has grown accustomed to Shiro’s presence at meal times; has grown fond of the way Shiro pulls Ulaz into conversation with a particular quip or inquiry. He finds himself unsure now on where he is meant to go from here. Perhaps another round of the Castle? The thought is not pleasant.

Shiro speaks up before Ulaz can excuse himself. “During training with the Lions, I thought I recognized this star system.” With an alarming amount of disregard, Shiro flops back onto the floor and amongst his arrangement of pillows and blankets. The long stretch of his torso catches Ulaz’s interest before Shiro crunches up into a proper seated position. “I don’t know how to feel about that?”

The proclamation piques Ulaz’s interest and he picks his way toward Shiro and his bedding. He gestures, a request to sit, and Shiro nods. Folding himself down beside Shiro, he’s careful with placement; scant inches between their knees, shoulders a breadth apart, synchronizing his breath with the easy cadence of Shiro’s. “What about the stars stirred you remembrance?”

Bunching his nose, Shiro says, “It wasn’t a remembrance so much as a - a feeling. I don’t remember a lot these days.” A quick flash of uncertainty washes away the calm of Shiro’s expression, his brows squeezing together as he frowns. His hand trembles on his knee, a subtle motion that transfers over to Ulaz through proximity. “Something about them was familiar. It broke my connection with Black. I was hoping I’d remember if I went somewhere familiar and just thought about it.”

Another shiver and Shiro clamps his mouth closed, jaw tensing. Ulaz nods, understanding without words. Often when Shiro speaks of forgotten memories, he loses himself to the emotions that lie trapped in his consciousness. Touch helps. Perhaps - reaching out slowly, Ulaz brushes his thumb against Shiro’s trembling hand. Shiro jumps, hand jerking back, before he exhales a sharp laugh. The tension in his shoulders relaxes. He turns his hand over, fingers still shivering, palm available for Ulaz’s perusal. Ulaz waits until Shiro meets his gaze, skirting the fragile skin of Shiro’s pinky finger with a single claw. Shiro closes his eyes and breathes out.

Quietly, Ulaz shifts closer until their knees touch, until their thighs align, until it takes all his will to not drag Shiro into his lap and smother the uncertainty with the surety of touch. Instead, he says, “Focus. View the stars as you did through your Lions eyes. What about them was familiar?”

Shiro purses his lips. He breathes out and says, “We’re doing this now then?”

“Do you not wish to?” Ulaz asks.

Dropping his head forward, Shiro’s fingers twitch against Ulaz’s touch. His eyes remain closed. “The window was smaller. I was - drifting. The window was smaller and I couldn’t tell which way I was going.”

“Good,” Ulaz praises. He smooths a palm over Shiro’s bouncing knee, stilling it. Shiro sways toward him. “When you look at them, what do you remember?”

The furrow of a brow. A sharp inhale. Shiro’s jaw trembles and he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “I don’t want to.”

“Then you do not have to.” Ulaz lifts his hand and glides his fingers over the tense line of Shiro’s throat. Shiro stills, releasing his bottom lip with a gasp. Ulaz pauses, the ghost of a touch between them. Shiro opens his eyes, lashes sweeping low before he flicks his gaze up to meet Ulaz’s. They’re much closer than Ulaz intended, though further apart then he desires. Dangerous, that, to want so vividly. Ulaz withdraws his hand.

“Your mind shies away from a truth you know. Pushing for that knowledge will put you in danger.”

Shiro chews on his bottom lip, a sign of reluctance that he doesn’t voice. Not often does Shiro seek the memories by himself; they tend to be thrust upon him at inopportune moments. Ulaz tilts his knee against Shiro’s, the pressure meant as reassurance. Shiro huffs a laugh. “It would be easier if I could just remember things.”

Ulaz glances away. They’d talked, briefly, of Ulaz sharing his knowledge of Shiro’s past. At first, he had been eager. The resulting panic, the pain and the near fracture of Shiro’s mind had immediately dissuaded them both from utilizing anything further. It weighs on him even now, knowing what Shiro does not. He tucks those memories close, ready to divulge when they become relevant once more. Shiro sighs across from him, scrubbing his hand through his hair. They remain in silence, pensive but comforting.

“Do you think,” Shiro begins, pausing until Ulaz meets his gaze, “that everything I remember is bad? That it’ll haunt me? Am I better off not knowing?”

It pains him, but Ulaz says, “Knowledge or death.”

That garners a laugh, Shiro slapping a hand over his mouth as his eyes crinkle. Muffled, he apologizes, “Sorry.”

“It is what it is,” Ulaz says, shrugging. When Shiro drops his hand, it lands on Ulaz’s knee, his palm warm and fingers spread wide. Ulaz swallows. “The choice may bring you great relief or more uncertainty. Seeking knowledge does not necessarily unlock enlightenment.”

“True.” Shiro fiddles with a fold of cloth on Ulaz’s thigh. “You didn’t answer my question though.”

“That isn’t an answer I can give you. I can only offer comfort and protection should you still wish it afterwards.”

Shiro pauses at that, lips pulled down in a frown. Quietly, Ulaz contemplates his own dance with uncertainty. Shiro’s memories contain less than savoury interactions with Ulaz while under cover. Learning that knowledge may result in - well. Ulaz will remove himself should that become an issue. He pulls back from Shiro’s touch, pushing himself to his feet. Shiro’s presence is important, his touch wanted, his voice a balm. But indulging  when Shiro does not know the truth is careless. Ulaz tucks his hands behind his back, gripping his wrist to still the tremor. A silly dream.

Frowning up at him, Shiro rolls to his feet. Ulaz takes a step back, ignoring the twitch of surprise over Shiro’s expression. Unknown memories stand between them, hold any potential friendship or - or _more -_ hostage. Ulaz knows this. Shiro does not.

Quietly, Ulaz says, “You should join your fellow Paladins for dinner.”

“Ulaz -”

“I wish you safe dreams.” Turning, Ulaz slips through the door.

**Author's Note:**

> You can come follow me on [tumblr](https://ashinan.tumblr.com) where I will be posting the Uliro fics first before putting them on AO3. ALSO ALSO please do follow [Uliro Week](https://uliroweek.tumblr.com/) for all your Uliro needs


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